


Keeping Pace

by KellCavs



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, F/M, Hangover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 18:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21481009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellCavs/pseuds/KellCavs
Summary: A little vignette about trying to keep up with an alcoholic.This has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months and I'm sick of looking at it.
Relationships: John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Keeping Pace

**Author's Note:**

> tw for alcohol obviously

The pair had steadily been drinking for the better part of the evening and it was taking more than its toll on Margot, who hadn't had much to drink since college. Hancock was unfazed, having his own personal liquor store in the upstairs room of the State House.

Margot had her face pressed into the ghoul's frock coat, breathing deeply through her mouth.

She had been carrying on a conversation with herself for a few minutes as well, asking herself questions and then answering them. Occasionally, a crystal clear question would present itself to the ghoul mayor.

"Jesus, Margot, how much have you had to drink?" Hancock laughed as he threw an arm around her as he sat by her side.

"Not enough," she slurred, making a grab for the bottle of vodka on the side table.

"Ah, I think you had plenty," he said, moving the bottle out of her clumsy reach.

"C'mon," she whined, her hand falling into his lap.

"Enough," he said firmly, giving her arm a squeeze. "You're gonna get sick if you keep it up."

Margot whined and tried to climb over his lap before unceremoniously falling over his legs.

"Gonna get on the floor," she mumbled, trying to slide to the floor

.

"Nope, babe, you're gonna stay right here, okay?" Hancock grabbed her by the back of her coat so she wouldn't hurt herself. "Can you do that?"

"No... Fuckin'... cmon, don't be drunk," she grumbled, squeezing her eyes shut.

Hancock let out a breathy laugh. "Are you trying to talk yourself into sobriety? That's adorable."

Margot took a few deep breaths to steady herself.

"He's gonna be upset with me. Shut up, no he won't. He loves me. He told me that. But you're being weird. I'm drunk."

Hancock watched her carefully, raising a brow and then shook his head. _Talking to herself..._

"Bed time for this little drunk," he said, grabbing Margot's arm and pulling her into a sitting position.

Margot went deadweight and flopped onto her side. She turned her head into the pillow and let out a heavy sigh.

Hancock's hand shot out to quickly remove her glasses so they wouldnt break.

"Babe," she cooed, blindly attempting to reach up for him. "You wanna marry me, right?"

"Shhh, just go to bed," he said, pulling a blanket over her.

"But you do, right?"

"Yeah, babe, I do. But right now, you need to get some sleep, okay?"

"You still love me, right?" she asked, her voice turning into a high-pitched crescendo that was grating on the ears. Thick, hot tears attempted to fall down her rosy cheeks.

"I always will, but please, I'm begging you, to to sleep," Hancock groaned.

Margot eventually drifted off to sleep, though she was still mumbling to herself for a while.

Hancock flopped down onto the chair and let out a groan as he shook his head.

He looked over at Margot who hadn't moved or made a sound for a while. He watched her chest rise and fall before grabbing a magazine. He shook his head again when he saw the clock on her pip-boy on the side table. It was barely 10:30 pm.

**

The next morning, Margot woke first with a pathetic groan. She hopelessly flopped to her other side and nuzzled against Hancock's sleeping form.

"Hey, you okay?" he whispered, craning his neck to look at her.

"My stomach hurts," she murmured, "And my head."

Hancock chuckled breathlessly as he rolled onto his back.

"Figured they would. Next time, don't try to keep pace with me, okay?"

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, cuddling against his chest.

"For what?" he asked, carding his fingers through her thick brown hair, "There isn't anything to be sorry for, sunshine. You got drunk. It happens."

"You didn't get to have fun."

"Hey, I had fun for a while until you went from drunk to shit-faced faster than a pissed off Deathclaw." Hancock had an ear-to-ear grin plastered on his face.

Margot groaned and pulled the blankets over her head in embarassment.

"Get out of the shame-pile, babe, we gotta go," Hancock said, patting her on the rear.

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue is essentially all word for word from a drunk conversation I had with my boyfriend at a con where I got fuckin blitzed. Yes, even the bit where she talks to herself. 
> 
> Post-college me just can't keep up anymore.


End file.
